


Good Boy

by Angryangryowl



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Kylo Ren, Control, Hair-pulling, M/M, Masturbation, Praise Kink, Punishment, Spanking, Top Armitage Hux, mentions of whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8015278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angryangryowl/pseuds/Angryangryowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo resists the control Hux tries to impose on him at first, but after he submits, he actually kind of misses it when Hux is away...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Boy

_ Kylo had resisted any sort of control Hux tried to impose on him at first. His temper tantrums become even more ruinous and spectacular for a few weeks just because he can. Because he won’t be ordered around by this ridiculous, self-important man with no authority over him. _

_ Until he allows himself to be. Until Hux grows weary of his disobedience and disorder, takes him into his bed and shows him exactly what it means to be ruled. Kylo resists at first, but becomes utterly, helplessly pliant under Hux’s command and he can see why his men love him. He is firm but not cruel, entirely sure in his actions, but not blind to change. _

_ His officers stare and gossip when Hux can quiet him with a hand on his arm, a couple of sharp words, or a narrowing of his eyes. When he murmurs ‘Stand down, Ren.’ and the masked man lowers his head in submission. _

And when Hux has to leave on a diplomatic mission for a few days, Ren feels suddenly lost. He wonders exactly when Hux moulded him, trained him to rely on his guiding hand and discipline so that he felt a little unstable on his own. So that his first instinct was to claw back the control Hux had over him which he’d resisted so hard at first. So that the first thing he thought about when he finally shrugged out of his underclothes and fell into bed was Hux’s hand in his hair.

_ Those slim and precise fingers wind through the dark strands, gripping tight enough that resisting is no longer an option. He imagines he is on his front, bent forward like an animal with the hot flare of fresh whip marks crossing his thighs, Hux will dig his fingertips into his scalp. Briskly tilt his head to the side, enough to allow Kylo’s frantic, keening breaths and pleas as he presses his head firmly against the pillows. _

_ Pressed down, so full of Hux’s cock and so achingly hard he can’t think further than the next command, the next snap of his hips, he finds the order that the General speaks of. _

His fingers tangle in his own hair now as he stretches out on his back, the woolen blankets rough on his bare skin. His other hand thumbs his nipple. His hands are bigger and not quite as precise as Hux’s, but he replicates the delicious slow build of pressure on his scalp, tugging on the roots, hearing that calm, commanding tone in his head _ 'Good. You bear it so well..’ _

 

The rough flat of his thumb pinches and twists at the rosy, sensitive flesh of his nipple, a poor imitation of Hux’s tongue and teeth. His hips arch against empty air, he’s already almost painfully hard. But Hux always makes him wait. Makes him moan and beg, curses and prayers into the mattress before he takes pity. He teases a fingertip over his stomach, enough to make the muscles beneath knot and shiver in anticipation. The palm of his hand smoothing over the arch of his hips, the ridges of his ribs, allowing two fingers to just brush the trail of dark hair below his navel.

 

His head rolls back against the pillows, biting back a moan ‘ _ Not yet, Not yet..’ _

 

_ Hux rakes his nails over Ren’s bent back, they’ll leave a reminder of his disobedience, this disorder he brings, in the morning. This is far worse than any dressing down Hux’s subordinates might get. Because when Hux tells him he’s bad, useless, chaotic, out of control, he believes every word. But it makes him greedy for salvation, he’ll prove he can take his punishment, he’ll make himself good again. Because when Hux praises him, there’s no higher accolade. _

 

He rubs his thumb over the slick of precome on his belly, streaks it over his cock and revels in being such a dirty, ill-mannered boy. His fingers curl around, because surely just a little won’t hurt? Hux isn’t here, he won’t know…

 

He pumps his flushed, aching cock two, three times, his hand twisting into his dark locks again. He yanks on them, pulls his head back, his mouth wide in a silent exclamation of pleasure

 

_ Dirty, impatient, spoiled. _

 

He curls onto his side, his back bent in towards his hand. He works himself erratically, given over to what feels like shameless self indulgence. His mind drifts to the rare kisses they share, the careful press of Hux’s cool lips, the tang of cigarette smoke and brandy and hands that stop holding him down to gather him closer, hold him in comfort, warmth, safety and stroke his hair. It never lasts long enough.

 

His scalp aches as his fingers twist into his hair again, the restriction and the heady thought of punishments to come making him gasp into the crisp grey fabric of his pillow. His toes curl thinking of Hux’s leather-clad palm and the hot red marks it leaves on him. How he’ll be rewarded for taking his punishment, and Hux will praise his fortitude. He spills into his hand thinking of that soft, crooning voice that is sweeter and rarer than anything he knows. 

 

_ Good boy. _


End file.
